‘May I be struck dead if I do!’ was the fervent reply. Timothy Plummer hesitated, then nodded. ‘Very well. I trust you, chapman. If I didn’t, I’d have you both clapped in chains. Nevertheless I repeat, you must accompany me to Baynard’s Castle.’
‘I have to get my pack,’ I protested. ‘It’s at Master Lamprey’s shop, where I was to sleep.’
‘I’ll have someone fetch it for you in the morning. There’s no time to waste. I want to hear now, tonight, what exactly you know and how in sweet Jesu’s name you came by your information.’ He swung round. ‘You! Lamprey, or whatever you’re called! Be off now! And forget what’s happened here this evening.’
‘You c’n trust me, Yer Honour!’
‘And Philip,’ I added, ‘it would be best, I think, to tell Jeanne that I met an old friend and have accepted his hospitality in preference to yours. She’ll think badly of me for it, but that can’t be helped. It’s kinder to her if she knows nothing. And when the messenger comes for my pack tomorrow, Master Plummer here will ensure that he’s not wearing the Duke’s livery. You can make up what story you like to account for him.’
Philip sucked in his breath. ‘Aye… Well …’ He began to edge towards the warehouse door. ‘I’ll go now, then.’
And when Timothy Plummer made no effort to stop him, he muttered a quick ‘God be with ye’ and vanished into the night.
‘You’re sure he’s to be trusted?’ Timothy asked uncertainly.
‘He’s a man who’s suffered a great deal of hardship in his life, and who has only recently found security with a good woman and his own shop. He’ll not jeopardize either for the sake of a careless word on a subject about which he knows next to nothing. As for violent death, he’s seen too much of it to let it bother him. He’s lived among beggars and the corpsers who fish the river for dead bodies. Which reminds me, what are we going to do about him?’ And I indicated Thaddeus Morgan.
Timothy Plummer shrugged. ‘Leave him where he is. Someone’ll find him eventually. He won’t be connected with you or me. It’ll probably never be discovered who he really is, for I doubt he goes by his own name. None of his kind ever does. Now then, if you’re ready, we’ll get going. It’s close to curfew.’
I replaced the candle and tinder-box on the ledge where I had found them and followed Timothy Plummer out of the warehouse, leaving the door wide open. I hoped it might persuade some vagabond to enter and lead to the finding of Thaddeus Morgan’s body. Even though, if all my companion had said of him were true, he would most likely be buried in the common grave, it was better than being left to rot or to be gnawed by the rats. I felt he deserved more than that, whatever his calling.
It was growing dark and the curfew bell was tolling as Timothy Plummer and I turned into Thames Street and headed in a westerly direction. The sky still glimmered grey, but there was a smell of tallow in the air as candles were lit. Shops were being closed for the night, goods taken indoors and stowed safely under lock and key. Voices called their valedictions amid much good-natured laughter and chaff. And rising above the roof-tops, down by the river’s edge, loomed the great black bulk of Baynard’s Castle.
Chapter Seven
The outer courtyard was full of people, the castle being, for the moment, home to two separate households, those of the Dowager Duchess of York and of her youngest son, Prince Richard. With the invasion of France already underway, and with the King and his two brothers making preparations to follow in less than a sennight, it was only natural that to the ordinary, everyday business of bed and board should be added the bustle of military consultation. Security was close, with double the guards on every gate to the number I recalled from my previous visit. Timothy Plummer’s face, however, seemed to open each door as if by magic, and in no time at all I was shepherded along a maze of passageways, up numerous flights of narrow, twisting stairs until we reached a room high up in one of the towers, where Lionel Arrowsmith and his young cousin awaited us.
The former was seated in a carved armchair, his injured foot resting on a stool, while the latter, his features pale and drawn, prowled up and down, every muscle taut with anxiety. As I entered with Master Plummer, two pairs of eyes, one hazel, one brown, were turned towards us.
‘Well?’ the elder demanded brusquely. ‘Was it Thaddeus Morgan?’
Timothy nodded and bade me make myself comfortable. I drew up a stool from a corner of the room while he lit another of the candles which stood in their holders on the table. ‘There’s no point sitting in the gloom,’ he commented.
‘Never mind that!’ Lionel’s voice was laced with panic and he pulled himself forward in his chair with his good left hand. ‘How does this pedlar come to know so much that he can quote Thaddeus’s name? And where’s the other little runt who came to fetch us?’
‘Gone home. I have Roger Chapman’s word that he’ll hold his tongue,’ Timothy answered placidly.
‘A chapman’s word!’ Lionel’s tone was scathing. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’
‘No. Nor will the Duke think so when I tell him. For the truth is that Master Chapman here is well known to His Grace and in the past has done him two great services. My lord would trust him with his life, there’s no doubt of that. Which, Roger, is precisely what’s at stake.’
I stared at him, frowning. ‘You mean… someone is trying to kill Duke Richard?’
Timothy sighed deeply. ‘That’s the long and the short of it, I’m afraid.’
‘But who?’
Lionel Arrowsmith gave a snort of laughter. ‘That’s what we were hoping to discover tonight, but someone got to Thaddeus Morgan before us, and as a result we’re as much in the dark as ever.’
‘Why would anyone want to kill my lord of Gloucester?’
‘If we knew that,’ Timothy answered with asperity, ‘we might know where the danger lies. Conversely, if we knew the name of the traitor we might have a motive for the crime.’
‘But if you know neither name nor motive,’ I demanded reasonably, ‘how can you be sure an attempt is planned on His Grace’s life?’
Timothy Plummer sat down in the window embrasure, stretching out his legs and leaning his back against the stone. ‘That can wait for the moment. First and foremost, you have some questions to answer, chapman.’ Lionel Arrowsmith nodded vigorously in agreement. ‘How do you come to know as much as you do? What circumstances led you to connect me with Thaddeus Morgan? And how did you come by his name?’
‘There’s no mystery,’ I answered. ‘I’m quite willing to tell you.’
When I had finished the broad outline of my story, but omitting those incidents which I felt had no direct bearing upon the matter in hand, there was silence for several seconds.
Then Timothy Plummer stirred. ‘A remarkable chain of events. Remarkable. Or, as you say yourself, perhaps the hand of God was here.’
But my other two listeners had different preoccupations.
‘You… you called at home and… and saw my lady mother?’ Matthew Wardroper stammered eagerly. ‘How was she?’
‘In health,’ I answered, but was given no chance to enlarge upon the subject before Lionel Arrowsmith cut in. His voice was tinged with hysteria.
‘You overheard every word that Thaddeus Morgan and I were saying last night? You were concealed behind a bush and we didn’t even know you were there? God’s toe-nails! Why didn’t we think to search the ground before we spoke? Why didn’t Thaddeus? Surely a man of his experience must have realized the possible danger that we ran! And if you could eavesdrop, who else might not have done the same? Timothy, I’m sorry! I’m a fool! An idiot! Report me to the Duke! Have me whipped for negligence! Never trust me again!’